


A Distorted Reflection

by KysisTheBard



Series: Bitter Sirens [4]
Category: The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Angst, Drama, F/M, M/M, Mind Games, Psychological Warfare, social unrest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-28
Updated: 2012-07-17
Packaged: 2017-11-08 18:51:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 15,175
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/446364
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KysisTheBard/pseuds/KysisTheBard
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Under pressure from world leaders and the ever increasing violence of anti-S.H.I.E.L.D. protests, Director Fury caved, calling for Loki to return to Earth to stand trial as a war criminal.  Stark Tower is determined as the only safe place to house him, tensions rising to a boiling point between the Avengers and their new guest.</p><p>Director Fury made the call, but at what cost?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Changing Tide

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to Hell. I'm not sorry.

Sparks flared blue, showering the workbench. With a steady hand, he guided the saw down, gritting his teeth behind the welding mask. His arm tensed, resistance rising. He lifted his other hand, pushing down hard with all his weight.

The tension gave with a snap.

He jumped back, saw blade spinning violently in the air. With a kick, he cut the power.

Tony flipped his hood up, blinking against the white hot lab lights. Everything came into focus slowly, crystal sharp, painfully clear.

The new chest plate gleamed up at him from the table.

It was perfect.

0 0 0 0 0

That was all of them. Natasha uncrossed her arms, pushing off from the back of the couch. Clint reached out, but she shrugged it off. Now as not the time for sentimentality. It was the time for action, and if no one else would do it, she had to.

“I’m sorry for the short notice, but I couldn’t keep quiet anymore.” Natasha kept her hands at her sides, neutral, though it was hard to look anything close to neutral in her black suit, fully armed, deadly. She had to come prepared.

“Why are we here?” Rogers caught her in his stare. He had been wearing that solemn look since the press conference. There were no more of his awkward smiles and stilted jokes. It was like he was preparing for war.

For all intents and purposes, they were at war.

“I wanted to make sure everyone was ready.”

Dr. Banner lowered his glasses, worry passing across his face. She couldn’t help but glance at his eyes. They were still brown. She quickly looked away, in time to catch Clint’s frown.

If she ever needed back up, it was right now, and the two who knew hadn’t said a thing. This burden was falling firmly on her shoulders. So be it. She remembered this sort of thing. In the coming storm, there’d be more than enough opportunities to repay them.

“Director Fury has authorized the transfer of a very volatile war criminal.” Natasha paused, making sure she had everyone’s undivided attention. “S.H.I.E.L.D. is bringing him here.”

Banner let out a brittle laugh, shaking his head. “What kind of war criminal are we talking about?”

Stark’s expression remained the same, cool and collected, frowning just slightly. She didn’t remember him having that good of a poker face. He just kept rubbing his work stained hands together, not even glancing up.

She didn’t like that. Not one bit. She wondered what he’d seen. He was probably chin deep in S.H.I.E.L.D. files, if his history was anything to go by. It was a wonder he had time to work at all… That would explain the dark circles under Banner’s eyes.

“Why don’t you tell them, Mr. Stark?”

Everyone turned to look at him, except Clint. Bruce’s eyes widened just as Steve’s frown deepened. She could feel the tension rising in the room, the unspoken questions, the distrust. She didn’t smile, though.

“I thought I made it clear I didn’t want any part of this.”

Steve sat back suddenly, realization on his face. Banner still didn’t know. He still hadn’t figured it out. Natasha tilted her head, regarding him. Did he really have no idea?

That was interesting. She would have to mention it in her next report.

“None of us have a choice.”

“We always have a choice.”

That wasn’t true. She frowned just slightly, not taking her eyes off Stark. Not all of them had a choice. Stark only had one because he made people see it that way. He forced it, time and again, as if repeating it enough times would make it true.

It wasn’t the time to argue, though. In all likelihood, they’d have to work as a team again, and soon. There was no point in starting even more strife than there already was.

“Am I really the only person who doesn’t know what’s going on?” Banner lifted his hands, looking around with a frown. “I can handle it. I’ve got a pretty good hold on the other guy now, promise.”

Natasha had to check his eyes again just in case. Brown. She’d never forget watching him transform on the Helicarrier. It was best if none of them forgot.

“They are bringing Loki here.”

Banner let out a little whistle and another of his laughs, teetering on a dangerous edge. There was a quiet beep, Natasha glancing to his bracelet. She’d never asked what it did, but assumed. That wasn’t a good sound.

Rogers stood from his stool, straightening. He loomed over her, Natasha craning her head with a raised brow.

“Is Earth putting Loki on trial?”

Natasha nodded. “The Director is speaking to all of the proper channels to organize it.”

Stark rolled his eyes. She decided to ignore it this time.

Rogers let out a sigh, rubbing the back of his neck slowly. “Just like old times, huh?”

This time Stark snorted, and she shot him a glare. He returned it, silently begging her to call him on it. She wouldn’t rise to his bait. Stark wanted to push buttons right now? Good for him. Someone had to be the grown adult in the room.

“Why are you telling us this, now?” Banner fiddled with his bracelet, staring at the middle ground. He was still civil, though.

“So everyone can be prepared.” Natasha bit the inside of her lip, then quickly stopped. She had no time for nervous ticks, especially not now. “We’ve all dealt with Loki before. He has a way of getting in people’s heads. If we are ready, we can stop that from happening.”

Everyone looked at Clint. She could feel the heat of his glare, quickly looking down. That was not what she had meant. That had been the Tesseract.

There was no where this meeting could go but down. It was time to stop it.

“I’m going to train. If anyone wants to join me, feel free.” She paused, waiting. No one made a move. Fine. Frowning, she turned, heading for the elevator alone. If nothing else, at least she would be ready.


	2. Protection

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just putting a friendly reminder here that my muse thrives on reviews. I love this story, and at times, it practically writes itself, but right now… I need to know what people think. Really. I’ve written so much in the past week that my muse has run out of fuel of its own and now needs a refill.

“But I am a full citizen of Asgard, and as such, I have the protection allotted to any other citizen!” Loki’s teeth were bared like a wild animal backed into a corner by a much larger predator, back arched in aggression, green eyes shining bright with the magic which coursed just beneath the surface. “I have done my service! The Bifrost is complete!”

Odin watched, the raised dais of his throne giving him distance, a sort of remove that felt like a shield now more than ever before. He could view it from afar. He idly traced the runes on the shaft of his scepter, that distraction keeping his composure strong, unfaltering.

“If this was Thor they sought after, you would not hesitate to put a halt to this!”

“Enough!” Odin sat forward, training his eye upon Loki. Loki straightened, fear shining through the cracks in his delicately crafted mask. He pulled his shoulders back, meeting his gaze with defiance. He was a master manipulator. It was moments like these Odin could not forget it.

It was moments like these Odin could not forget that he had raised Loki.

“Citizen or no, disregarding this would put our treaty with Midgard in jeopardy.”

“What use are the mortals to us?” Loki spit his words out, a low, feral growl. Cornered animal, indeed.

Odin leaned back, putting more distance between them, just a breath, but enough to make a difference. It seemed through his servitude, Loki had learned nothing of humility. Perhaps this was for the best.

“Either you submit yourself willingly, or you will be taken back to Midgard by force.” Odin stared down at him, his own carefully crafted mask keeping his face still. “I give you until tonight.”

Loki looked down, a breathy laugh escaping him. “So you would give me chance to say goodbye? To whom, do you think I would? Who do you think honestly cares?”

“Your mother.”

Loki flinched, taking in a deep breath. Frigga was not present for this council, as she said it would be too much to bear. Odin wished he had forced Frigga to attend, because then her son might be less volatile, or would at least keep face better.

Finally, Loki spun, striding off between the columns. Odin watched him go, then turned his gaze back to Thor.

“You are troubled, my son.”

Thor raised his gaze slowly, eyes burning with the intensity of a million suns, glistening with countless unshed tears. Odin started to stand, but Thor turned his back, leaving the hall without a word.

This was the right decision. Odin knew this was their only path. Midgard had proven itself, and now… Asgard had to remove the tarnish from its past.

0 0 0 0 0

“Tomorrow, we are receiving… a very special visitor.” Fury paused, though no one moved, no one even batted an eyelash. He frowned. “Loki is being brought here.”

Steve did not fake surprise. None of them did. They remained completely silent, Fury at the head of the meeting room looking even more and more like his name implied.

“What? I’m not getting anything? Really?”

Stark shrugged, messing with his phone again. Steve sighed, turning even more away from him. None of them wanted to be there, at that meeting, but he could at least show some respect.

“I am assigning each of you—with the exception of Dr. Banner—to guard duty.”

“Excuse me?” Stark sounded offended. It took all of Steve’s will not to roll his eyes. “I’m just as unprotected as Bruce without my armor—”

“Then I suggest you suit up.” Fury kept frowning at them. “There will be two S.H.I.E.L.D. guards on his cell at all times, along with one Avenger. Twenty-four hours, seven days a week. Am I clear?”

“When will he be here?” Steve leaned forward, tapping his fingers on the table. It would probably be safest if everyone only did a six hour shift at longest before the replacement came in. Each of them had a prime time of operation, so that should factor into their rotation. He was a morning person, so he would gladly volunteer for the morning shift, even if that did shake up his training schedule.

It wasn’t like he had anything better to do.

Fury turned away from the table, hands clasping behind his back. “We are not entirely sure yet.”

“I can be there, when he arrives. As an escort.” Steve offered immediately, seeing the disinterested look Stark had and the fact that Clint didn’t look all that happy. Steve couldn’t blame him, considering their past history. He’d been too scared to ask what it was like, despite his own morbid curiosity.

Fury gave a slow nod, barely glancing over his shoulder. “Meeting adjourned. Captain, I suggest you get to sleep. I’m not sure when, exactly, we’ll be getting the call, and I’ll need you fresh and in uniform.”

Steve pushed himself up, saluting. He’d be ready.

0 0 0 0 0

“Our schedules are going to be…” Bruce chewed at his lip, staring at the soft glow of the arc reactor. He could feel Tony shrug under his cheek, making his head bob. He scooted closer, wrapping his arm around him tight.

Tony brought his arm up around Bruce’s back slowly, as though he was thinking. Bruce felt like he could tell the difference now. There was normal Tony, who was always actually thinking, at least three layers of it, one mechanical, one programming, one surface noise. It was like the suit in the way. The other was Tony worried about something.

Bruce poked him in the ribs, ready to laugh, smile about to break loose. There was no response. He smoothed his hand out again, like nothing had happened. He was still quick to cover up actions, make them seem natural. Blend in.

“You don’t like this.”

“You don’t either.”

He kissed the crook of Tony’s neck, seeking something, anything. His skin was warm, lips greeted with the usual metal and a faint salt tang. There was something else, too. He couldn’t quite identify it.

“I don’t think Fury realizes what he’s opening up here.” Tony turned his head, planting a half-distracted kiss on Bruce’s forehead. He traced soft circles up Bruce’s back. Bruce pushed a little closer, pulling his leg up over Tony’s.

“Try not to think about it.” Bruce tried smiling, but he couldn’t quite find it. It was almost laughable. He was telling someone else not to worry. He was always worried. “Right now, there is nothing we can do.”

Tony let out what could only be described as a resigned sigh and rolled to face him.

0 0 0 0 0

This time, there was no doubt in his mind when he heard the thundering feet of guards advancing through the halls. He could make himself vanish from their sight, but they would still find him. He could slide from the mirror in the corner of his room into another, but where to?

Loki stood, striding to the center of the room when the doors opened. He lifted his hands before him, flinching as he felt the cool metal bands coil around his wrists, locking them tight. The jolt ran through him like a jolt of lightening, fingers numb as the magic was chased from them.

His chance had passed. Now he was at the mercy of those he had previously shown none to.


	3. Red Ledger

The Bifrost landed with a crash, dust exploding outward in a shockwave. Steve closed his eyes against it, but did not move, giving no ground. When he opened his eyes, the dust was receding already, forms visible in it.

He saw the glint of metal armor and long yellow cloaks first. Steve straightened his shoulders, lifting his chin high. He flexed his hand, readjusting his grip on his shield. He only hoped he would not need to use it.

The group approached, the New Mexico night becoming still around them. In the middle of the guards, standing tall and proud, was none other than Loki.

The man’s face had healed, skin smooth and pale as though the Hulk had never happened to him. His eyes were a muted green, distant though his stance was defiant, even with his hands shackled before him.

Steve lifted his hand as a greeting, nodding to the guards. “We can take him from here.”

S.H.I.E.L.D. agents moved in, one taking the place of every guard. Without a word, the Asgardians moved back in the imprint left by the Bifrost, vanishing as the agents escorted Loki into the quinjet.

Steve pressed the button on his communicator, waiting for it to crackle before speaking. “Target secured.”

A confirmation was given on the other side. Everything was going as planned. That was certainly a pleasant surprise.

0 0 0 0 0

Natasha swiped her card, walking through the door quickly. She was in her suit again, weapons loaded and ready if need be. Even with him in a cell, she was on edge. They had all seen what happened the last time.

Two S.H.I.E.L.D. agents in full riot gear stood on either side of the hallway entrance, guns slung over their shoulders. Natasha barely glanced at them as she walked past, heading straight for Rogers.

He was sitting on a chair, mask pushed back, gloves removed. His shield was propped on the wall next to him. He looked bored out his mind. That was a plus. She’d have hated for guard duty to actually be interesting.

Loki stood in his cell, hands still bound together, back to them, like no one mattered. She had to look long and hard to even see him breathing.

“Has he said anything?” Natasha dropped her bag on the table, looking down at Rogers.

“Not a thing.” Rogers glanced up at Loki, then stood, stretching with a wince.

“Good. I’m not in a very conversational mood right now.” She slid into his seat, crossing her legs with a frown.

She was relieved that he had been docile, but at the same time, it worried her. Loki had been anything but docile on the helicarrier. Either he was plotting something, or… he was plotting something. That had to be it.

Rogers said a polite goodbye before leaving, the gentleman as always. Somehow she managed not to roll her eyes. Some people might find it charming. At first, she did. She thought they were past that.

Six hours, and she’d be passing the torch to Stark. She sighed, glancing at her watch. It was going to be a long night.

0 0 0 0 0

The guards changed again. Loki blinked once, twice, letting his gaze focus on the glass before him. In it, he could faintly see the reflections of them. Fresh mortals stood at the hallway they had taken him through, and a new ‘Avenger’ had taken the place of the soldier.

It was the woman, again.

Loki did not say anything, did not even look at her. Despite what she stated, he was certain she would gladly trade angry words with him, should he but prod. It would not take much, either. There was still a quiet sort of rage he could feel radiating off of her.

He had threatened something dear to her, whether she would admit to it or not. It seemed she still bore that grudge.

Thankfully, she made good on her threat of silence, not saying a word. Loki returned the favor, moving to stretch his legs when he could see her attention was elsewhere. She was shrewd, cunning, and because of that, he was careful.

Time slipped by in gentle waves. Loki closed his eyes, floating back into the same meditative state he had been in for most of his time in this cell. In it, he could feel the tendrils of magic laced through his shackles, tracing them with his mind’s eye.

With continued probing, he might be able to shed himself of his bonds.

The guard rotated again, Loki’s mind snapping back into his body as sound once again filled the void of his prison.

“You are late, Mr. Stark.” The woman’s voice was smooth, but irritated. Loki opened his eyes, glancing over his shoulder for the first time.

None other than the metal man, Anthony Stark, stood just inside the room, an un-amused pout on his lips. Loki turned, gaze falling fully on his right hand. It was sheathed in a metal gauntlet, stripped bare of its red and gold plating, wires of blue light dipping beneath his short sleeved shirt.

Stark raised his hands in what might have been defensive. Loki could not quite tell, especially when the man’s lips quirked up in a lopsided smirk. “Hey, you weren’t expecting me to show up at all. Better late than never.”

The woman rolled her eyes. She unfolded her legs, standing. It reminded him of an uncoiling snake. She was likely just as deadly, but at the moment, she was not his main focus. Loki found himself frowning at Stark, trying to read into him.

The others were plain to him, their emotions hidden beneath a thin veil, thoughts just a layer deeper, and just as badly concealed.

In a matter of moments, the woman was gone. Rather than taking her chair, Stark walked the perimeter of the room, checking the other door, even waving at one of the cameras. Loki turned, keeping the man in his sights.

Once his sweep of the room was done, Stark came straight to the door to the first half of his cell, an eyebrow quirked in an unspoken question. Loki did not answer, staring straight back.

This man wore many masks.

“So, how do you like Earth so far?” Stark gestured at the room around him, looking just about as uninterested in it as Loki was.

He opened his mouth to speak, then closed it again, swallowing. None of the others had bothered conversing with him. Perhaps it was a ploy. They were testing him, seeing how much it would take to make him speak.

Loki would not give in.

Stark merely shrugged. “If it was up to me, you wouldn’t be here at all.” He rolled his eyes, very pointedly, then crossed his arms. He had to recross them a few times before he seemed to settle in.

That was bait. Loki pursed his lips, lacing his fingers together. It strained against his shackles, but it was something to focus upon, so he put his full attention there.

“How was working on the Bifrost, anyway?” He smiled, that sarcastic smile he remembered so well from their last meeting. “Two months, and you’ve got Asgard back in the space travel business again. Bravo. I bet you wished you’d taken your time with that one.”

Loki’s frown deepened, brows pulling in. Perhaps he should have kept his back turned, though he was starting to think that maybe, just maybe, Stark loved the sound of his own voice. And he had thought the guard shift of the ‘good Captain’ had felt unbearably long.

“You know what my theory is?” Stark took a step back, letting his arms fall. He fished a flask from his pocket and took a sip as he walked toward the chair. “Going after you is going to open up a lot of doors.”

Though he honestly wanted to ignore the man, he was making it impossible. Curiosity got the best of him, Loki stepping to the left so he could continue watching Stark clearly.

“Not good doors, either.” Stark plopped down in the chair, reclining comfortably. “It’s going to show the public that they can call people out on past crimes if they bitch enough in the streets.”

“What have you to fear?”

Stark looked up sharply, blinking a few times before he regained his composure. He flexed his armored hand, staring at it for a moment, before he spoke again, words bitter and dark in a way Loki did not recognize from the metal man at all.

“A lot more than you think.” Stark flexed his hand, a low whine coming from his gauntlet. Loki trained his gaze on the glowing circle imbedded in the armor’s palm, where the sound was surely coming from. “I may be called a hero now, but I wasn’t always.”

Loki wetted his lips, taking a step closer to the glass. His fingers brushed against it, though he was hardly paying attention to that. “And what, pray tell, did they call you?”

Stark frowned deeply. There were no more playful jabs, that mask removed. The mockery was gone as well. Loki could see concern in the growing wrinkles of his face, in the strands of grey in his dark hair. Those eyes were nothing short of haunted.

It seemed, though, Loki had finally asked the question to shut the man up, right when he actually wanted him to speak.

Loki backed away from the glass, taking up his rigid watch once more. After a while, his eyes fluttered shut. He was wary, but he did not let himself slip into sleep, not here, and certainly not while standing. This kind of rest, almost conscious, was as much as he would dare.

It was not until he heard the nameless guards being switched that he opened his eyes again, only to find Stark watching him intently. The man stood, coming close to the glass, so close a fine mist played across the barrier with his words.

“They called me the Merchant of Death.”

Stark stepped back just as another of the Avengers, the archer, arrived to take his place. Loki watched the metal Avenger’s departure, storing his questions away for later.

If this rotation continued, he knew he would have more than enough time to ask.


	4. Fairness

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I thought I’d written myself in a hole with the last chapter. Was stressing out a bit. Then I looked at my outline. Apparently I’d already thought ahead and mapped out that hole and the way out of it. Fuck yeah.

Bruce turned, sliding his glasses down the bridge of his nose as the door opened. A smile crept on his lips, uncontrollable. Tony walked in the lab, cup of coffee practically glued to his mouth. Bruce shoved the computer monitor back over the desk, meeting him halfway.

“How did it go?” Bruce gently pushed the coffee mug down, replacing it with his own lips. His mile was contagious, quickly transferred. “Guessing it was uneventful.”

“Yeah.” Tony shrugged, taking another long draw from his mug. “I think he’s sulking.”

Bruce laughed, taking the coffee mug away. He set it on the table next to them, giving Tony a firm poke. “Don’t you think you’ve had enough caffeine?”

Tony pouted, casting a forlorn look at the mug. Bruce laughed harder, turning Tony’s face back towards him.

“Come on, you were in the workshop all afternoon, and then on guard duty all night. You should get some sleep.”

“I’m fine.” Tony reached for the cup, Bruce catching his hand. “Please?”

Bruce looked away sharply. That look would ruin his resolve. It always did. “If I come with you, will it help?”

“I’ve already consumed enough coffee to keep the entire US Army awake for a month.” Tony leaned over, right into his field of vision with that look. Bruce felt his resolve crumbling. “You’d have to tire me out first.”

Bruce took off his glasses, folding them carefully before setting them next to the cup. He smiled again, chewing at his lower lip before finally responding. “Challenge accepted.”

0 0 0 0 0

Fatigue pressed him down into the temperfoam mattress, but sleep still wouldn’t come. He stared at the ceiling, one hand gently combing through Bruce’s unruly curls, the other at his side, flat down on the sheets. It wasn’t the coffee, either.

“He’s not going to get a fair trial.”

Bruce glanced up, blinking to clear the sleep from his eyes. His hand lingered on top of the arc reactor, mostly blotting out its light. Tony knew that wasn’t why he did it. It was the comfort. Tony had slept like that, with his hand on the arc reactor, for a year after he had gotten it, just to remind himself that he was okay.

Right now, it didn’t feel like everything was going to be okay.

“If they are smart, they will keep emotionality out of it.”

“Like they can.” Tony stretched his back, dislodging Bruce for a moment before settling back down. “You saw the protests. These people don’t care about the facts, Bruce. They smell blood in the water, and when they get to the source, it’ll be a frenzy.”

“We don’t know that.”

Tony closed his eyes, wilting. “I didn’t take you for an optimist.”

“Someone had to be your counterpoint.”

“Thanks.”

“Go to sleep.” Bruce pressed his cheek against Tony’s shoulder, pointedly. “Or I’ll put my bracelet on you and _make_ you go to sleep.”

Sighing, Tony complied, listening to Bruce’s long, calm breaths next to him until he finally drifted off.


	5. Criminals and Heroes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love you guys. Really. Your reviews make my day and keep me writing. Thank you all.

“How much longer are we going to keep the media in the dark?” Natasha watched the screen carefully, the protests reflected in her eyes. Director Fury stood beside her, hands tucked behind his back as usual. Natasha turned her head slightly, just enough to see his stoic expression. “It is getting dangerous out there.”

“I want to make sure we have all our ducks in a row before we let anything leak. The last thing we need is an angry mob storming Stark Tower.”

“Of course.” Natasha turned back towards the wall mounted flat screen. “You still didn’t answer my question, though.”

“Good catch.” Fury pivoted, returning to his desk. “I don’t know, otherwise I’d give you an exact number. Trust me, I’m pulling strings as fast I can without them snapping.”

“Have you watched the surveillance?” Natasha put her back towards the screen, keeping her gaze on the Director now. She could not read his expression. It was completely neutral, something she had mastered years ago. Not many people could use it against her.

“Some.” Fury turned on his computer, reclining in his chair. “There wasn’t much to see.”

“You know exactly what I’m talking about.”

Director Fury laughed, a smile breaking across his features. “Do you have a problem with it?”

“I think he is planning something.”

“He came willingly.”

“He did last time, too.” Natasha looked down at her feet for a moment, collecting her thoughts. “I think there should be someone monitoring the security feed whenever Stark is down there. They are both extremely unpredictable, and if something happens—”

“We do have people monitoring the security feed, and, if you haven’t forgotten, two S.H.I.E.L.D. agents in there as well. If something goes wrong, I’ll be the first one to hear about it.”

Natasha gritted her teeth, but didn’t say anything. It was obvious Fury wouldn’t listen. She just hoped he was right.

0 0 0 0 0

“You are awfully quiet tonight.”

Tony glanced up over his gauntlet, then went back to work, tightening the last screw. He flexed his hand, rolling his wrist. Everything moved as it should. Tony pushed his hand up, the tension triggering the repulsor at his palm to whine as it charged. He lowered his hand, the sound stopping, the light receding.

Loki stood in his cell, going from statue still to pacing like a caged tiger at intervals. Every time Tony looked up, those piercing green eyes were on him.

“Curiosity killed the cat, you know.”

The man—Deity? Demigod? The Avatar of Trouble?—scoffed, beginning to pace again. So much pent up energy was going to drive Tony up a wall. He focused instead on his gauntlet, making little tweaks to the exoskeleton and exposed circuitry. His whole schedule was thrown off by guard duty, so he had to make the most of it.

He might as well work on anything which didn’t require the full workshop while down there.

“You never truly told me why it was you had anything to fear.” Loki paused in his cell again, trying to stretch his shoulders, it looked like. It didn’t work too well with the shackles on. “What past transgressions might come back to haunt you?”

Tony set his screwdriver down, leaning back in his chair. “What’s in it for me?”

Loki frowned. It was a much better expression than that uncanny smile of his. It was safer. Well, at least he felt safer when Loki was frowning, because that meant things weren’t going his way. And that was good for his health. What probably wasn’t good for it, though, was the fact that it looked like Loki was considering something.

“A trade.”

Tony glanced at the S.H.I.E.L.D. agents—they might as well be mannequins, for all the contributions they were making—then back to Loki.

This was probably a horrible idea.

“You value knowledge, Stark, I can tell my own kind.” Loki paused in front of the door, staring through two layers of reinforced glass at him. “It is only a matter of time before this trial begins, and then, my knowledge will be forever out of your reach.”

He certainly knew how to drive a hard bargain. Damn.

“Deal. You start.” Tony stood, walking closer to the cage. He didn’t like how Loki turned to keep him in view. “When we were in Germany, you made your armor disappear. What was that?”

0 0 0 0 0

The explanation was intricate, faceted with nuanced subtleties, and in absolutely no way dumbed down. When Loki finally stopped talking, Tony had to remind himself to blink. His eyes were dry from staring to long, mostly at Loki’s hands. Those lithe fingers had moved in what Tony mistakenly thought was a nervous twitch at first, then he realized it wasn’t that at all.

Magic was made with the hands, woven with skilled finger movements, precise and practiced. Those fingers itched to create, making the motions out of a kind of yearning.

Tony finally dropped his gaze to his own hands, his left one idly playing with a screwdriver, right flexing and moving with the feel of the gauntlet around it.

When he looked up again, Loki was watching him, watching his hands. Tony put the screwdriver down, swallowing the lump in his throat. He glanced at the clock. It’d already been three hours. It had only been three hours.

That meant it was his turn.

Tony stood, stretching. He could feel Loki’s gaze burning into him, the same way ice burned, could feel the way the S.H.I.E.L.D. agents were watching him almost as intently as they were watching their charge. That was comforting.

For some reason, he really didn’t feel comfortable with them hearing this.

Tony walked around the cage, putting it between himself and the guards. That would mute him. On second thought, that wouldn’t be enough. “Jarvis, would you mind putting a dampener on the audio feed?”

With a chirp, the microphones on the cameras all clicked off, the little light on the side of them turning red. Good.

Now it was just a matter of figuring out where to start.

“How many people do you think you killed?” Tony tried crossing his arms, then stopped. He knew from Loki’s file that he was a master manipulator, a master liar. Liars could read people. Tony didn’t want to give him any new material. “Directly and indirectly, how many?”

“By people, I assume you refer only to humans.” Loki’s expression did not change; he didn’t even bat an eyelash at the sudden questioning. “In that case, I was informed the number was over one hundred.”

Tony made a little noise, eyes darkening. “That’s cute.” Loki’s eyes narrowed, jaw tensing. “No, really, that’s like child’s play.”

He flexed his hand again, stretching it in the gauntlet. “Before I had my metal suit, I was a weapons maker. I designed bombs for the highest bidder. And other things, too. Anything destructive, I made it. I wouldn’t have had a problem with it, either, if only the ‘good guys’ were using my weapons. That was the problem. The ‘bad guys’ were some of my best customers.”

Loki took a step closer to the glass, brows furrowed, like he wasn’t quite sure what he was hearing. He’d have enough time to stew on it before Tony’s next shift, so he didn’t bother to slow down. That, and Tony was certain Loki could keep up. A rare feat, that. Might as well take advantage of it.

“If just one of my Jericho missiles failed to kill at least one hundred people, I would have been disappointed. And they came in three-packs.” Tony let out a bitter chuckle, shaking his head. “The best part? When I got a taste of my own medicine, built my suit, hunted down all my double-dealt weapons and killed my backstabbing mentor, the world was _excited_.” 

The silence was killing him. Loki didn’t say a word, just staring at him with pursed lips.

He figured he’d have something to say about that. Something biting. Something acidic.

Tony gritted his teeth, continuing. “I got a medal. The public sees what they want to see. They want to see me as a hero. I flew a nuke into space and blew up the rest of your army before it could come out. How many Chitauri do you think that killed? But I’m the hero. And you’re the criminal.”

A smile flashed across Loki’s features, chilling to the bone. “I used to think I could be the hero. Then I woke up.”

The door opened across the room, Cap walking in.

“Jarvis, audio back on.”

Tony didn’t have time to see if the lights were green again. He grabbed his bag and left.

There were some things he didn’t want to think about.


	6. Honor

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this chapter took so long. I’d just finished my 50k in a month challenge, and though this chapter is necessary for later stuff, it just wasn’t all that interesting to me right now, especially after writing so much Stark and Loki interaction. Next chapter should be better.

The main floor had become even quieter than usual. Quieter, and more tense. Bruce didn’t even have to walk up to the floor to ceiling windows and look down into the street to feel the tension, either. The employees Bruce still ran into were all extremely high strung, because coming into work with the building on lockdown was difficult and dangerous, plus they could tell there was something worse going on.

None of them knew the Stark Tower was sitting on top of a war criminal. That was probably for the best, though. Bruce tried smiling and being encouraging, but he could tell people were nervous around him, even here, in the Tower.

Sighing, Bruce turned off the stove with one hand while he got down two plates with the other. If he didn’t get food or make it, Tony was probably going to forget to eat again. He was doing that a lot lately. He was more than a little worried.

“Dr. Banner.” Steve gave him a nod, opening the fridge. He pulled out a water bottle and moved away again, to a safer distance.

“Shouldn’t you be asleep right now?”

“Got a meeting with the Director.” Steve drank half the bottle before putting the cap back on.

“Anything interesting?” Bruce slid the curry onto the plates, half and half, then set the pan on the back burner.

Steve didn’t say anything, looking down.

That wasn’t good.

“I can handle it.”

“Sorry, I should get going.” Steve gave an awkward smile and finished off his water bottle, tossing it in a recycling bin he’d started a while back. He was the only one who actually used it. He vanished into the elevator without even really saying goodbye, which was off for him.

The food was getting cold, otherwise he might have pursued it. Sighing, Bruce grabbed forks and pressed the up button, waiting for the elevator to come back.

0 0 0 0 0

“How is babysitting duty treating you so far, Captain?”

Steve shifted from foot to foot, still standing at attention, hand aching to salute, though he knew he didn’t have to, and that he shouldn’t. He wasn’t in the military anymore. This was S.H.I.E.L.D. and Fury wasn’t a platoon leader, he was the Director. It was completely different, and yet the familiarity of it was what made him the most comfortable on most days.

Right now, it felt like a crutch to lean on, and he did not like that one bit.

“It is… a lot easier than I first thought it would be, Sir.”

Fury gave a slow nod, staring at him with his good eye. Steve looked away, not sure if he should look at the eye, the patch, or the middle ground, which only made him more uncomfortable. It would be rude to acknowledge that out loud, though, so he kept his mouth shut on the matter.

“If I may…?”

“Yes, Captain?”

“I am more than a little worried at the attention the war criminal is showing to one of his supervisors.”

Fury frowned at him, and immediately, Steve shifted uncomfortably, waiting for a reprimand which never came. Fury just scowled at him, patiently glaring, if that was even possible. Fury did a lot of things like that.

Steve cleared his throat, trying again. “Loki has been silent for the most part, except during the periods Stark is there.”

“I’ve noticed.”

“I am worried.”

“Yeah, I noticed that, too.” Fury crossed his arms, leaning back on the front of his desk. Steve searched his face for something, anything, but couldn’t get any kind of read on him.

“I am afraid Loki might try something.”

“I have all the assurances of Asgard that his magic is bound.”

“Yeah, but his mouth isn’t.” Steve took a step forward, then quickly fell back into position, letting out a strained sigh. “According to his file, he has been using words to manipulate people since he could talk.”

“So has Stark.” Fury let his arms fall to his sides, though it did not make him seem any friendlier. “Look, I know you have good intentions, but I think Stark can handle himself. Plus, Loki doesn’t have any windows to throw him out of. He’ll be fine.”

Steve cracked a small smile. “Yeah, but will Loki be fine?”

Fury laughed, a small, clipped thing. It felt loaded. It didn’t put Steve at ease at all.

“The boys can handle themselves, and if everything goes well, the trial should be starting soon, which means they won’t be left so alone.”

“There are other guards there.” Steve’s smile fell as quickly as it came, worry flooding back full force. Alone? Had Stark sent the guards away? There were a million questions he could ask, and the longer he stared at Fury, the more and more he felt like he wouldn’t be getting any answers. He blinked, clearing his throat again. “What did Stark do?”

There was another laugh, setting him even more on edge. “Better question: what hasn’t Stark done?”

“You didn’t answer my question. Sir.”

Fury rolled his eye. “Other than talking to an intergalactic war criminal and none of the microphones or guards picking up what was said, nothing.”

That only made Steve’s frown deepen. “Did he tamper with the holding cell?”

“Not that I’m aware of, but Stark is the leading edge in just about every kind of tech that doesn’t explode, so I wouldn’t be surprised. Is there anything else you wanted to address with me, Captain?”

When Fury put it like that, Steve wondered why he reported anything to Fury at all. He took a deep breath, then shook his head, only catching his salute half-way through. He let his hand fall again, frowning.

“You’re dismissed, soldier.”

Steve turned. If Fury wouldn’t listen, someone else had to. Someone else had to care enough to be worried.


	7. Occupational Hazards

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am really sorry this took forever and a day. After writing 50k in a month and not having my car for most of it, I was really burnt, so I needed a few days to clear my mind and reboot and enjoy being out of the house (with my car back, yay!). But now my brain should be working again. Huzzah!

In the right situation, six hours could feel like the blink of an eye. In the wrong one, six hours could feel like an eternity. This was the wrong sort of situation. Every minute crawled past, making its presence known before slinking off.

No matter what he tried doing, how he tried distracting himself, the time still would not go faster.

It didn’t help that he could feel Loki’s gaze following him everywhere.

Clint closed his eyes, staring down at the concrete floor. It was still there, at the back of his head. The feeling of every cell screaming out, every thought being unwound, jumbled, like slack chains, and nothing he could do would put them back together again. It was like being in a cage, where he could see anything, but no matter how much he shouted, no matter how much he beat at that invisible barrier, he couldn’t be heard. His body did what it did, and he had no say over it.

And there Loki was, in a cell, those toxic green eyes watching him. He who unmade Clint.

Banner was lucky he had gotten out of guard duty. Clint would have subjected himself to another month of personality tests and psychological evaluations if it’d gotten him out of this.

0 0 0 0 0

“And lastly, the government funding has been received for us to begin construction of a new arc reactor for the city grid.” Pepper placed the stack of papers before him. “I highlighted everywhere you need to sign.”

Tony groaned, staring down into his coffee cup. This was ridiculous. It was two in the afternoon and he looked like he had only been up twenty minutes. Pepper rolled her eyes, slamming her pen on top of the stack. She was not going to leave until every one of those papers was signed and she could get all of these contracts moving again, because being in the Avengers was really hampering Tony’s ability to run Stark Industries and she could only take so much more of it.

“Tony, I need you to focus. Right now.” Pepper picked up his coffee mug, taking a sniff of it. It didn’t smell like he’d added any alcohol. That was surprising. She did not smell any coming off him, either. That meant there was absolutely no reason he should look so run ragged right now, unless he was keeping something from her.

She placed the coffee cup back down, crossing her arms. “I have three meetings today, and if I am late to any of them—”

Tony mumbled something then picked up the pen, working through each page methodically, pausing to scan the contents quickly. Sometimes she wondered if he was really just brushing off the contents like it looked like, or if he could really read that fast. It could be possible.

Within ten minutes, all of the pages were signed, and Tony was handing them back up. Pepper slid them into her suitcase, in the last file with the green tab, and clicked it shut. “Where’s Dr. Banner?”

Tony looked up sharply at that, almost choking on his coffee. He coughed once, twice, then finally managed something. “Lab.”

That was somewhat surprising, considering she had not seen the two apart for a while. At first it had been trying, but now she was used to it. As used to it as she could possibly get. In fact, it made her life a little easier, seeing as Tony actually slept and ate on a regular basis. It was a start.

Now if only he could get on a schedule like a regular human being, and they’d be in business.

“I will let you know how the meetings went tonight, and have a full report ready for you tomorrow.” Pepper hoisted her briefcase, giving a curt smile before going.

0 0 0 0 0

The sun was starting to set outside, its rays setting the whole city awash with golden light. That was her signal that it was time to go, finally. The day felt like it’d stretched on forever, and it wasn’t just the meetings. She actually liked meetings, usually, but everyone was being an absolute pain because of the protests.

The fact that companies were actually hesitant to associate themselves with Stark Industries because of a little bit of social unrest was absolutely infuriating. She hadn’t said anything, though, hiding it all behind her courteous smile and a firm handshake.

They would come around eventually. She would make sure of it, even if that meant pulling Tony in to distract them. Companies usually caved when they got to meet him in person, all charismatic and talking too fast for even their top engineers to keep up.

Sighing, Pepper finished packing up her suitcase and slung her purse over her shoulder. She headed down in the elevator, stepping out in the lobby. “Good night, Cheryl.” Pepper gave a short wave to the woman at the front desk, smiling again.

The woman smiled back, like it was infectious, and waved as well. “You too, Miss Potts.”

Readjusting her purse on her shoulder, she headed through the lobby, shouldering the door open when she got to it. The car was waiting at the curb, Happy waiting patiently. Pepper couldn’t help but smile a little bigger, seeing him there. She slid into the back seat, buckling in.

“I’m glad you came out from Malibu.”

Happy glanced over his shoulder, giving a little shrug. “I’m here to serve.” He laughed, then turned on his blinker, pulling out into traffic. It was slow going, but that was nice, relaxing. And they got to catch up a little, about how Happy was actually training in boxing a lot more since the whole HammerTech incident, and how the mansion was doing fine without anyone there. He didn’t mind checking up on it now and then, though he did miss everyone being in Malibu.

She missed it too. She missed a lot of things, but she wasn’t about to break the happy banter for anything. This was the best way to unwind from the day, excluding champagne and bubble baths surrounded by scented candles. Maybe that’s what she would do tonight.

Happy slammed on the breaks.

Pepper threw her arms forward, seatbelt crashing against her before she could fly too far forward. She took a deep breath, looking around.

The cars in front of them were crunched together, right in the intersection. Pepper fumbled for her purse, riffling through it for her phone. It had to be in there somewhere.

That’s when she heard the chanting.

She looked up slowly, eyes widening.

There were enough people to be classified as a mob. An angry mob. A lot of them were holding signs. Pepper put her hand to her heart, trying to calm it down for a moment. It felt like it was going to burst straight out of her chest.

Happy looked back over his seat, frowning. Pepper couldn’t help but look, too. There were cars behind them. They were locked in.

“Stay calm, I’ll handle this. Just keep inside, okay.”

Before she could protest, Happy was out of the car, walking for the crowd. Pepper finally found her phone, speed dialing Tony. No answer. She glanced up.

One of them punched Happy.

Pepper lowered the phone, staring as the crowd launched on him.

A few of them were staring right at her.

Pepper reached down, slapping the seatbelt until it finally snapped off. She stumbled out of the car, purse clasped to her side, suitcase in one hand.

They were moving closer. Pepper took a step back. Someone was there.

“Quickly Miss Potts.”

Pepper spun.

Phil Coulson stood there, small, patient smile bowing up his lips just slightly. Pepper looked from his face to his shoulder, then back up again, unable to speak.

He grabbed her elbow, quickly leading her through a dinner and out the back exit. It wasn’t until they were halfway through the alley that she finally managed to say anything.

“What about Happy?”

Phil didn’t break stride, still leading her. “S.H.I.E.L.D. agents are converging on the crash site as we speak. Do not worry about him. We will handle this.”

“Tony told me you were dead!”

Phil gave that patient smile again. It was the same type Pepper used when dealing with clients who just weren’t listening. She wouldn’t back down though, and Phil seemed to realize that.

“I am whatever S.H.I.E.L.D. needs me to be, Miss Potts. This way, please.” Phil turned her down another street, pausing at a light as police cars sped by, sirens wailing. As soon as they were gone, he guided her across the street, into another car. “I am sorry, but I cannot allow you to return home at this time. The driver will take you to a safe location until we can decide upon a course of action.”

There was that smile again, and Pepper could only nod as she was gently pushed into the back of the car and whisked away.


	8. Accountability

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things are starting to get moving again.

“I’m en route right now.” Natasha pressed on her communicator, disconnecting. She pushed her hand through the other arm of her suit, slipping it up over her shoulder as he walked. With a jerk, she zipped it up, slapping the elevator button.

Before the elevator hit the bottom floor, she was already patched through to Fury’s office, interrupting his falsely cordial greeting. “Fury, do you have any idea what you are doing?”

“ _I am well aware of the situation and we have it under control_.”

“Control? You call _that_ control?” Natasha gritted her teeth, hand shaking. “Do you have any idea how close they got? How much damage was _almost_ done?”

“ _I believe you stated the key term there, Agent Romanoff. Almost. As in it didn’t happen._ ”

Natasha let out a growl, cutting it short as the elevator doors dinged open. She brushed past security, slamming her card through the scanner and shoving the door open.

Stark was bent over in his chair, one foot in a stripped down mechanical boot, multiple tools in hand. He looked up sharply, whatever he was about to say dying on his lips. He glanced at the clock then back at her, frown deepening.

“We have a situation.”

He sat up sharply, blinking a few times. She didn’t move, standing in the doorway. If she moved, it would likely be to strike something, so she had to keep perfectly still. If he said anything sarcastic right now, it would probably be him.

Thankfully, Stark seemed to be speechless.

“The protest got out of hand.”

Stark shrugged, bending back over his leg. “What else is new?”

“Pepper was in it.”

He froze. She could see the vein pulse on his neck. She didn’t tense, though. Stark didn’t turn into a massive killing machine when he was under stress, and good thing, because he always seemed to be under stress. Like he thrived on it.

Not this kind.

“Is she…”

“S.H.I.E.L.D. operatives intercepted her and have taken her to a safe location. Happy was taken to a secure hospital.” Natasha glanced between Stark and Loki. The latter was facing mostly away, but his head was turned, just enough that Natasha knew he was listening. Right now, she didn’t care. “I was going to her safe location, though if you want, I can relieve you of duty so you can go.”

Stark lowered his head, letting out a shaky breath. He fiddled with his tools, then shook his head. “Just keep me updated.”

“I figured I’d give you the option.”

He cringed at her word choice. Natasha knew it was a poor one, but went with it anyway. As far as she was concerned, Stark was still on her negative list. Still, she would keep him informed. He deserved that much, at least.

0 0 0 0 0

For a second, however fleeting, he was certain he saw actual emotion on Stark’s features, all of those masks pulled away in a startling moment of clarity. There was worry, first and foremost, followed in quick succession by what could only be classified as fear. That look was much like the feeling of falling, of feeling the drop and knowing there were only moments before hitting the bottom, hard.

Before the bottom could be found, his expression was recovered, masks pulled securely into place. Even with that shield up, Loki could see chips in the armor which once seemed so utterly impervious.

Loki fought against a smirk, keeping his lips pursed in a thin, disinterested line. He turned his gaze away, focusing on the glass. In the reflection, he could see the Black Widow leave the room, see Stark set back to whatever project it was he worked so diligently on night after night.

The man’s hands never stopped moving, and Loki could tell, his mind did not either. He was in a constant state of creation. Loki stretched his fingers, gritting his teeth as he felt the strain of the cold shackles encircling his wrists.

In the silent hours, he had created a mental map of the shackles, of every facet of them, mapped even how they stretched invisible fingers into his bones and barred the pulse of magic through his veins. There was just enough let through, as small a fraction as it was, to keep the illusion of Aesir pale skin and emerald eyes, just enough to make him look more a person than the monster that lay beneath it all.

It was a magic he did not control, a magic not of his own creating. Perhaps that was why it was allowed to run free while the rest had been effectively dammed.

And if one thing, however small, was allowed past, then others could be, too.

“Brooding again?”

Loki blinked, bringing his mind back to the present. He turned slowly, smirk flashing across his features. “The same could be said about you.”

“I’m working.” Stark pointed one of his tools at Loki, scowling. Loki had expected a smirk. Perhaps his masks were not so immaculate to cover this latest discovery. “I have an excuse. You don’t.”

“Oh? My neck being placed firmly upon the executioner’s block is not a proper excuse?” Loki let out a small breath of a laugh, shaking his head. As the Midgardians would put it, Stark was truly ‘a piece of work’.

Stark shrugged. He returned to his wires and machinery, changing this connection or that. The broken down structure reminded him of his diagrams of the Bifrost, in a way. He assumed Stark had diagrams as well, somewhere, no doubt in that glowing rectangle of glass he carried with him.

As interesting as it was just to watch him tinker in his natural environment, there were much more intriguing matters to prod at.

“This woman, is her name truly Pepper?”

Stark closed his eyes, and Loki could see the tension snap tight in his jaw. Just as quick as that, it was gone, though. He turned his tool sharply, gritting against the force. In a matter of moments he was moving his foot around, the metal frame gliding easily around his foot, actually showing some mobility Loki did not remember his crimson and gold metal suit having.

“It’s Virginia.”

Loki nodded, though he had no idea about Midgardian naming customs, nor could he tell where such a pet name as Pepper would come from. It was no doubt something sentimental, otherwise such a simple, _innocent_ question would not have caused such a reaction.

Or perhaps the sentiment was for her.

He touched the glass lightly, fingertips ghosting over the surface. They left no mark. No alarms sounded, either. He pressed his palms to the glass, leaning against them. Nothing. He was not sure if he should feel relief or insult.

“Is she your lover?”

“No.”

There was that tension again, so brief it might be missed, if he had not been looking specifically for it. Loki leaned against the glass again, knee pressing on it. The structure did not give at all, despite all his strength being put into it at the moment. The cage was much stronger than it looked at first glance. If he had his magic, he would have already known that, though.

Thankfully, Stark was too distracted to see he was testing the limits, and Loki entirely planned on keeping it that way.

“But she was, at one point. I can tell.”

Stark closed his eyes, hanging his head. He did not even try concealing his reaction this time, much to Loki’s pleasure.

One chip to the armor at a time. Soon enough, it would fall.

“I assume you have a new lover now?”

“That’s none of your business.”

Loki shrugged, taking a step back from the glass. Stark leveled a heated glare at him, drawing out a short laugh from Loki. “Ah, but what of our earlier discussions? Were they truly any more my business than this?”

He had a valid point, and he could tell Stark realized it, despite whatever frustration it might have caused him. Loki smiled again, and it was somewhere close to warm, if it hadn’t been for the opposite message no doubt visible in his eyes. Just another elaborate mask.

“It is interesting that I have only had four guards of your group. What of the mindless beast? Has he finally strayed so far from the light he is no longer worthy of the title Avenger?”

Stark’s hand trembled on his tool, coiling tight enough around the hilt of it that his knuckles flared white. If there was not glass in the way, he was certain he would be able to hear the man grinding his teeth.

He had struck something with this, though what it was, he could not be certain.

“Is it because he is a monster, that he is not trusted?”

“That’s not it.” Stark grated the words out, tapping the tool against his hand. There were red marks left behind. It no doubt stung, though Stark hardly noticed. “He’s busy.”

“And you are not? It seems to me as though there are millions of things you would rather be doing.” Loki made a slow circle of his cell, gaze never leaving Stark once. He could not miss a moment. “Even the archer has made an appearance. What is so special about the beast to make him exempt?”

Stark swallowed roughly, Loki tracing the bob of his throat’s apple with his eyes. If there was not a cell around Loki, if they were not underground—perhaps in Stark’s private quarters at the top of the tower again—he was certain the man would be tempted to try tossing him from a window this time, rather than the other way around.

It was a fun game, but one which he would tire of quickly if Stark did not start providing at least some answers.

“I said it was none of your business.”

Loki paused mid-step, opening his mouth to retort before he caught himself. Stark had not, to his recollection, said anything about the beast’s absence being none of his business. No, he had said his love life was not his business.

“I see.” Loki straightened his shoulders, scrutinizing Stark in a completely new sort of light, now. He was glad now for his patience, even if he had been close to its end. “How does he feel about your time spent here? I believe this is Midgard’s night, and you are not there to share your bed with him.”

Stark’s eyes grew wide, and again, it was like the sensation of falling. He could see it. See the plummet. See the bottom looming there, so close, about to hit. Stark closed his expressive brown eyes, taking a shaky breath.

He was not sure what to make of the sudden change. It was an admission, but of what sort? It could be surprise at his secret being discovered, or it could be a sort of fear, that same fear shown when the Widow announced Pepper had been in danger. Or maybe he was just exasperated, though Loki doubted it. Tony did not seem the sort to become exasperated so easily.

“Perhaps I was wrong.” Loki lifted his hands, though the gesture did little, as they were bound together at the wrist. It was irritating, to say the least. “A jest, nothing more.”

Stark let out a slow breath, slow enough that it was meant to go unnoticed. Loki caught it. There was a sign of relief, clear, very clear.

It was best, he decided, if Stark suspected he was completely in the dark on this. There would be more trust, and less pressure, in a way. At least, that was his aim. The less pressure building up between them, the better.

Those whom were comfortable always spilled the most information, whether they intended it or not.

0 0 0 0 0

“Are you absolutely sure about this?”

Fury stared up at the bare ceiling, frowning. Though his hands were clasped behind his back, there was an itch in his fingers, an itch that could only be scratched by holding his gun. Right now, he had some more important fish to fry, though.

“Yeah, I’m sure, Coulson.”

Coulson gave a small nod with that patient smile he always conjured up. Fury really didn’t like being on the receiving end of that. It was a damn effective weapon.

“In that case, I will inform all the proper venues and rally security for your announcement.”

“It’s not like the President is giving a speech.”

Coulson pressed on with that smile, not budging. “Considering the recent attacks against members of the Avengers initiative as well as against Stark Industries employees, I believe I am perfectly warranted in saying it is necessary.”

Fury had to give him that. He nodded. That was the only signal Coulson needed at this point. They’d worked together long enough to know the signs. Coulson turned on his heel and headed out of the room, heading towards the surface again.

He went the opposite direction, to the room one Virginia Pepper Potts was currently housed it.

It wasn’t meant to be comfortable, but they did what they had to in the short amount of time they had. In fact, originally, it was a low threat hostile holding cell. Pepper wasn’t a threat, as far as he could tell, but they needed a safe location.

Fury knocked on the door, once out of being cordial, before walking in. He leaned on the wall, crossing his arms in front of his chest.

Pepper glanced up from her seat on the cot, standing quickly. She opened her mouth, then looked down, collecting herself before speaking.

“I want a status update, _this instant_ , on how Happy is doing. I also demand to be allowed out of this room, because I’m not the enemy here. And I want to know if everyone in the Tower is fine.”

“Miss Potts, I did not come here—”

“Don’t you dare avoid my questions. If it wasn’t for me, Tony never would have considered helping you out. No Iron Man on your team. So I think you owe me this much, at least.”

“You definitely drive a hard bargain.” Fury leveled his eye at her, considering. He could see how Pepper had survived as Stark’s handler for so long. She’d earned her reputation, and then some. “But I agree.”

Pepper continued frowning at him, mirroring his position with arms crossed.

“Your driver is being transferred as we speak. He only needed a few stitches, so he’ll be just fine. As for the Tower, it is still on lock down. All the proper personnel were informed of the situation. Agent Romanoff is currently on her way and will be handling your stay here.”

“See, that wasn’t so hard.” Pepper had the same smile at Coulson, and he had a feeling it wasn’t nearly as patient as it looked. “Is anyone else on their way?”

“I’m not sure. Last I checked, Mr. Stark is fulfilling babysitting duty at this hour.”

Her smile fell, brows knitting in. “Babysitting what?”

“I thought he would have told you already. It’s not like he kept other S.H.I.E.L.D. secrets from you.” Fury let his arms drop to his sides, opening the door. “We brought Loki back from Asgard.”

Pepper’s jaw dropped.

Fury smiled straight at her, nodding his head. “I hear Agent Romanoff now—”

“When were you going to tell the press? When someone got killed?”

“I am on my way to a press conference now.”

“In the middle of the night?” Pepper rolled her eyes. “How dumb do you think I am?”

“I had to arrange for it on the fly, considering the current situation. Now, if you’ll—”

“No, I won’t excuse you. How long has Loki been here? How long have you been sitting on this, just watching New York City _boiling over_? I could have been killed tonight! Happy could have been killed! They shot at Tony and Captain Rogers in the street! They attacked Natasha in plain daylight!”

“It’s gotten a little out of hand.”

“A little? You call that a little?” Pepper pointed toward the wall, though it was more a general direction sort of thing. The effect wasn’t lost on him. “Have you even been out there, or are you too busy staring down from your lofty office to notice what the rest of us have to wade through?”

Thankfully, Agent Romanoff stepped in, not even glancing at him as he gestured to Pepper.

“Come on. Let’s get some coffee or something.”

Pepper gave him her best death glare on her way out of the room, and if looks could kill, he’d be liberally screwed right now. Thankfully, she wasn’t nearly as super human as the others he had to deal with on a daily basis. Also, thankfully, she didn’t keep up the interrogation, otherwise he’d have to offer a job and a security clearance to go with it.


	9. Hold On

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And Part 4 is almost complete. One more chapter to go. Then, onwards to Part 5!

He was already awake when he received the phone call. It was still dark out, but it wouldn’t be for long. From his window, he could see the streets, see the city waking up. He wasn’t watching today. He didn’t move from where he sat on his bed, staring down at his hands, his feet, he wasn’t really sure. It wasn’t like his eyes were focused.

The tower was quiet, silent and still like a tomb. It might as well have been one. Everything was on lock down still, even more so than before, after the last night, and from what the Director had just told him, things were either about to get a little better or a lot worse.

Clint stood, grabbing his phone off the bedside table and shoving it in his pocket. It was already too late. The damage was done, and there was nothing he could do to stop it. He might as well watch the aftermath.

0 0 0 0 0

Sometimes it was nice to just watch. There was something about the quiet, the lack of chaos, that was comforting.

Bruce moved around his lab, completely unaware. His shirt sleeves were rolled up to the elbow, pushed up a little farther even. He leaned over a microscope, expertly turning the dials, before writing something down in a notebook. There was a computer screen right next to him, but old habits died hard.

Tony watched from the doorway, arms crossed over his chest. He breathed slowly, deeply, conscious of how much sound he made. Over the hum of machines, the similar hum of his arc reactor blended in perfectly, like an unintentional cloak. That was fine.

He just wanted to watch right now.

He just wanted to reaffirm that Bruce was really here.

That he was safe.

0 0 0 0 0

The last person he expected to see was Tasha. Then again, he was not expecting anyone to be in the common kitchen. Rogers was in his shift with the villain, Stark had just gotten off his shift, Banner had changed his schedule around to the point that no one really saw him anymore, and Tasha had a late shift as well.

She cradled a mug of tea in her hands, staring off at the wisps of steam gently coiling off the surface. She had probably gotten the call, too.

Clint sat next to her carefully, not saying anything. What was there to say? Too much, really, but silence was safer.

After a moment, she glanced up at the clock, then over at him, a forced little smile bending the corners of her lips. He knew that smile. It was never for good situations.

0 0 0 0 0

It was too much. Tony closed his eyes, and rather than hearing bombs and gunshots, he heard the cool tones of Loki’s voice, slicing into his brain like a scalding scalpel. He knew. There was nothing he could do about it.

He shuddered, pressing a hand against his chest. It did nothing to relieve the tension, the pain, constricting around his heart. It wasn’t the shrapnel. No, the arc reactor was still doing its duty, still keeping the electromagnet powered. It was something worse.

“Tony… are you okay?”

When Tony opened his eyes, Bruce was right in front of him, pulling off his glasses. The flecks of green in his eyes were born from worry, as was the shrill beep of his bracelet, always keeping a check on him. Bruce reached up, placing a soft hand on the side of his neck, thumb running over his jaw.

“What is it?”

Tony couldn’t tell him.

Of all the factors he had considered when it came to Bruce’s safety, Tony had never put himself into the equation.

And now he was the greatest threat.

0 0 0 0 0

The moment his hand moved, she reached over, threading her fingers through his. “Hey.” She leaned over, smiling. Happy turned his head, just barely, letting out a loud groan. That was good. That was very good.

She gave his hand a pat, drawing his attention back in. A few stitches. Director Fury had made it sound like he’d just gotten a scratch. Thankfully, Happy wasn’t doing too bad, considering. If S.H.I.E.L.D. hadn’t gotten there sooner… She didn’t even want to think about it.

“You’re okay.” Happy tried to smile and really didn’t live up to his nickname, but that was fine. It was never meant to be serious anyway. Pepper squeezed his hand harder, nodding. “Good.”

“Agent Coulson saved me.”

Happy gave a tiny nod, and it pulled on the tube connected to his nose. She reached forward, pushing it back into place, blinking furiously against the sting in her eyes. She’d managed to keep it together for Tony more times than she could count. She could keep it together for Happy, too.

He settled back in, relaxing. She could see the drugs in full effect, making his eyelids sag down. He’d be asleep again at any moment, and that was fine. It would give her a little bit to collect herself.

He didn’t, though. He lifted his hand, fingers still wound with Pepper’s, and pointed past her shoulder.

She turned slowly, swiveling on her chair.

He was pointing at the television.

0 0 0 0 0

It was all over the morning news. Every station had it, had the video reel taken from S.H.I.E.L.D.’s underground headquarters in NYC, separate from the Stark Tower. It was a safe location. Still would be, even with the video. There was nothing visible behind Fury beside the S.H.I.E.L.D. logo and concrete walls.

He really hoped no one would be able to trace it from just that.

Clint glanced down sharply, feeling a hand on his own. It was Tasha’s. He opened his mouth, but she shushed him. They had relocated to the couch, turned on the television. It didn’t matter what channel they put it to, because they were all the same.

There Director Fury was, announcing to the whole world what S.H.I.E.L.D. was, how long it had been around, who the founders were, the sort of projects they worked on. It was dry, to the point, but not too fast. No, it was just the right tempo that everyone could absorb it.

Clint wasn’t sure how he felt about that. Especially when he started talking about the riots.

In just a matter of moments, the world would know just how much power it really had.

0 0 0 0 0

Bruce’s breaths were even, deep, calm. Tony listened to them, moving slowly, just an inch at a time. He reached over without removing his eyes from Bruce, watching carefully, so carefully. His fingers brushed over the remote control for Bruce’s bracelet, then onto his phone, which was buzzing.

Tony hid it under the sheets to block out the light, though it probably didn’t matter. There were three messages, two from a number that had to be Fury, the other from Pepper. There was a text message, too. It was Fury. Tony took a mental note to block that number later, reading over the message.

He was going public with Loki’s incarceration.

That was either a very brilliant tactic, or the one that was going to sink the ship. Tony frowned at the screen, then flicked the message out of the way. Bruce didn’t stir once. That would be great, if he was actually tired.

No, there was too much he had to do and too little time to complete it.

Without a word, Tony slipped out of Bruce’s grasp.

0 0 0 0 0

There it was. Clint hung his head, the words still echoing in the back of his head.

Loki was going to be tried for his past crimes against humanity.

“It is going to be fine.” Tasha squeezed his hand, trying that smile again. He knew where he recognized the smile from, now. It was the one she used when reassuring someone who was on the wrong side of her scope. It was the smile she used on missions, behind enemy lines, when she needed to regain traction.

Nothing was going to be fine.

“When Loki’s trial is done, who else are they going to bring in?” Clint looked away from the screen, to his hands. They were worn, calloused. He’d long ago washed the blood off, but sometimes he was still sure he could see it. “How many people do you think I killed under his control?”

“That’s just it. You were under his control. That was him calling all the punches.”

“Was it?” Clint pulled away from Natasha, frowning at the floor. “Or was he just another piece on an intergalactic chess board?”

She looked like she was about to say something, but nothing came out. A small crease formed between her brows, just enough to tell him she was thinking about it, honestly considering it.

“Have you looked into his eyes lately?”

Natasha sat back, realization flickering over her features. She tensed to stand.

“It’s too late. If Director Fury calls this off now, we’ll have a full out war in the streets.”

She didn’t move other than nodding. “Point of no return.”

“Yeah. For all of us.”

0 0 0 0 0

It was much like threading a needle with his mind, where he could not quite see the loop, having to go in completely blind. His eyes were closed, concentration entirely upon the metal binding him, binding his magic. He could feel it, the slight tug, that hole where some was managing to escape.

Slowly, so slowly, he pushed with his mind, tugging at that natural magic still left upon him like a string. After a few moments, when the pulse of blood through his head seemed too much, he realized he was not breathing.

Loki paused, repositioning his feet. They ached from being on them so long, a dull throb which traveled up his legs and gripped his back.

He was too close to stop now.

0 0 0 0 0

It slid over him like a second skin, drawing out a shiver. He pulled it up over his shoulder, smoothing it out. With the last of it seated under the line of his jaw, he pressed the button.

His ears popped. It felt like he was being squeezed, hard, and then everything settled. His skin tingled, the slight vibration of it all setting him on edge.

Swallowing roughly, Tony lifted his arm, taking a swing. It moved around him, readjusting for the flex of his muscles, continuing to grip.

He walked quickly to the middle of the floor, cleared out of tables. Once he was on the grid, he raised his arms to the side.

“Prepare to initiate in three… two… one…”

The pieces of the suit shivered, trembling on their respective tables. Tony took a deep breath, letting it out through his mouth.

“Come to papa.”

Like a symphony, the parts lifted.


	10. A Distorted Reflection

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think I killed myself with this one.
> 
> Part 5 is coming soon.

“What do you two talk about in there?”

Stark turned, half full glass bottle swinging in one hand, a tumbler with ice in the other. He blinked a few times before frowning. “How did you get access to this floor?”

Steve pursed his lips, shoving his hands in his pockets. “You’re avoiding the question.”

“That isn’t true.” Stark pointed at him with his glass, then poured an unhealthy amount of the amber liquid in it, setting the bottle aside. He put the stopper back into it, taking a sip. “This is a matter of security, Captain, and I think it takes precedence.”

“This is a matter of security, too.”

Stark rolled his eyes, leaning back against the bar, casual as always. It would be infuriating, if he wasn’t used to it by now. Everything was casual with Stark. He just smiled and took another sip of his drink, watching Steve from over the rim of the glass. “How about we start over, then. You ask something not so vague, and I’ll give you a not so vague answer. Then you tell me how the hell you got up here.”

There was no way of avoiding this, so he might as well try going with it. The path of least resistance with Stark was always playing along. “When you are on shift guarding Loki’s cell, what do the two of you talk about?”

Stark shrugged, waving his glass dismissively.

“You agreed to give an answer.”

“I said I’d give a less vague answer.”

Steve let out a frustrated sigh, fighting the urge to just walk back out. He had come here with a purpose, and he wasn’t going to leave until he had some answers. Stark was trying to make him angry, and really, it was working, but he wouldn’t give in.

“That wasn’t less vague.”

“Okay, how about this: it’s nothing more than a pissing contest. Happy?”

“No.” Steve glared him down, not flinching away in the slightest when Stark met his stare with a similar intensity. “I don’t think you would have turned off the audio feed if it was just a pissing contest.”

Stark’s smirk fell, replaced by a neutral mask. He took another sip from his glass, then abandoned it on the bar, only half finished. Even though he wasn’t in his Iron Man suit, rather in a tailored business suit, he was still intimidating. In fact, this might have been more intimidating.

He’d watched enough news to know just how much of a master manipulator Stark could be, especially where the media was involved. A black suit with a tie was just as much a suit of armor as his metal one was.

“Maybe Fury should have checked to make sure all the equipment was operational before commandeering the room.”

“I’ve watched the video feed. I’ve been in the control room.” Steve tensed, refusing to take even a single step back, even as Stark advanced slowly.

“And?”

“Whenever you’re in there talking to Loki, the audio feed goes down. That’s what.”

“Maybe my arc reactor is causing interference.” Stark tapped on his tie, where beneath it, they both knew the thing was. Steve had never seen it, but he’d read the file.

“It’s never done that before.”

“So, when the audio supposedly went out, where was I standing?”

Steve thought about it for a moment, frowning deeper. “Opposite from the guards, so the cell is between where you were and where they were.”

“And where, in relation to that, are all the cameras?”

He was good. Steve didn’t know what to say to that, but Stark’s stare was unrelenting, that smirk pulling back up. “On the side where you were standing.”

“As I said, probably proximity to my arc reactor, or maybe the repulsors on my gauntlet. Not all tech likes to play along.” Stark shrugged, then went back to his glass, every ounce of him exuding confidence and that air of victory. It was sickening.

Something didn’t seem right about that, but Steve couldn’t argue. This man was the pinnacle of modern technology. Steve knew he was severely outgunned without first doing months worth of research, and even then, it would be an uphill battle.

It was a battle he would rather not have. Right now, there was no chance of winning, so he’d have to retreat, regroup.

“So it was just you being your usual charming self?”

“I take offense to that.” Stark topped of his glass with a mock-offended look. Steve could tell he was joking. It was like this was an entertainment show. It was difficult to tell when Stark was being honest or when he was being camera ready. Sometimes he wondered if there was even a difference.

“Personally, I’m surprised you two haven’t bonded over a mutual dislike of Thor and his distrust of technology.” Steve let out a little laugh, trying to defuse the tension a little, now that he had an answer, even if it was still vague. The look Stark gave him told him he shouldn’t have tried.

The gears were turning. It was the same look Howard got when he had a new idea.

“Tony, whatever you’re thinking—”

“That is a brilliant idea.”

“I don’t think it’s a good idea to—”

“To what? Piss him off? No, it’s a great idea.” Stark barked out a laugh, grinning. “Think about it. The trial is starting soon, and he’s going to be there. Handcuffed or not, he’s still a danger when not in a glass cell.”

“So you’re going to make him angry.”

“No, I’m going to make sure he blows off enough steam _before_ the trial starts, so that he won’t have the urge to defenestrate anyone there.”

Steve blinked a few times, but didn’t ask. He could tell there was no way he’d be able to talk Stark down from this. Maybe it would even be good.

0 0 0 0 0

Tony dropped his bag on the table with a clang, announcing his arrival. He didn’t know why he brought the bag. Habit, probably. He wasn’t planning on using anything in it, not tonight, at least. He had more important things to do.

Like pissing off their resident supervillain.

The guards did not even blink; they were used to him by now, it seemed. Loki turned, though, that sharp gaze rolling up him, appraising. Tony merely raised an eyebrow. He didn’t look too different. Jeans, t-shirt, gauntlet with the wires reaching up under his sleeve to his arc reactor. It was the same old.

Except it wasn’t the same old. Tony sauntered up to the glass, watching his own reflection on the outer shell of the cage. Every movement screamed certainty, confidence, from the square set of his shoulders to his gliding steps, the hard edge of his dark eyes to the smirk on his lips.

Loki’s expression remained completely neutral, curious, if nothing else. His fingers fidgeted, just enough to know in any other situation, Loki might be using his magic. Defensively, offensively, it didn’t matter, because his magic was bound by his shackles.

Tony knew he was safe, 100%, and it showed. He wasn’t afraid to flaunt it.

“I’ve got a new subject for us.”

“Oh? Do enlighten me.”

Tony let out a little laugh, glancing over as he made a predatory circle of the cage. He stopped when he was at the back of it, pressing the button on his phone. The red light blinked into existence on the cameras, microphones off. Another few commands and the video feed was on a loop.

“Why do you hate Thor so much?”

Loki made a little clicking noise with his tongue, looking away sharply. His neutral mask became a kaleidoscope, flickering through anger, disgust, pride, and just a moment, fear, resentment, something deeper, like crushed hopes. Tony didn’t dare blink, because one moment it was all there, on display, and the next he was looking impassive again, the only sign of the disturbance the taut line of his jaw.

“Careful. Might snap a few teeth, gritting them that hard.”

“What would you know?” His voice seethed out, sharp and raw.

“Try me.”

“What would you know about always being in another man’s shadow, of not being the golden child, of never being the object of praise, when you are more than deserving?” Loki growled the words, hands shaking against the shackles. “What would you know about never having the love of your supposed family?”

That wasn’t what he’d been expecting. Tony wetted his lips, but that didn’t help the sudden dryness in his mouth. It only made it worse.

“A lot more than you think. As I said, try me.”

Loki shook his head. “You first.”

That wasn’t the natural order of things. Loki always provided information, then Tony would follow. It was safer that way. He could think about it, plan his every word, decide how much he was willing to give of the truth, how many lies could be properly digested with them.

He could tell this was going to go nowhere fast, though, so he had no choice. The tables were flipped.

“Okay. I’ll bite.” Tony flexed his gauntlet, reassured by the flex of the metal supports around his arm, gripping it, cradling it comfortably. The repulsor let out a low whine, and he released the tension, looking up.

Even without his magic, Loki was very dangerous. He’d heard the stories. He was a master of words.

This was a risky dance he was getting himself in to.

“I know what it’s like, struggling to impress a man who couldn’t care less. I know what it’s like to be shoved aside for something else entirely. I know what it’s like to pour everything I’ve got into a project, only to be shut down, time and time again.”

Loki swallowed, Tony only knowing because of the bob on the long column of his throat. Discomfort? Tony’s smirk returned, bright and bitter, as was the laugh which escaped him. He glanced down at his gauntlet again. Sometimes he wondered what his father would have thought of the suit.

Or of what he was doing right now.

“And every time you were shut down, you tried harder, and harder, until you had nothing left to give.”

Tony looked up sharply.

That wasn’t Loki standing in the cell.

That was him.

He wore a suit, pressed and black, with a dark red dress shirt, black tie with gold pinstripes. Even then, Tony should see the glow of the arc reactor under that tie.

Staring out at him from in the cell was him.

“And, you know, it was great. I built things which were bigger and better, and you know what, it didn’t matter. Never did. Because there was always something bigger and better than me.” The man in the cell waved his hands, then crossed his arms, that bitter smile an exact copy of his own.

Tony shook his head, rubbing his eyes before looking again.

Loki stood there, hands still bound in shackles. Though his expression was entirely serious, there was mirth in his eyes. “I showed Odin time and again that I was the better son, the wiser son. I saved him from the king of the frost giants, I even tried wiping them out, all in his name, to finally get rid of the monsters which had been a thorn in his side for centuries. And there, hanging from the Bifrost, _he told me no_.”

“I was nothing more than another one of his creations.”

“And I was nothing more than a stolen relic.”

Though it was Loki standing there now, tall and dark and powerful, Tony couldn’t help but see himself in that cell. It had only been for a moment. If he blinked, he might have missed it.

But that was him.


End file.
